Monday, October 27, 2014

FOs

It's taking some adjusting, getting used to not having a cat. There's only been a span of about two-three months in the past 30 years (when I first moved into my apartment) that I didn't have a cat(s). And Pumba was what I called "high maintenance" since he was diabetic and required insulin shots twice a day and also had megacolon, so he needed medicine every day in order to poop. So now it's just the two dogs.

I think about three weeks prior to his death he had a stroke or something. He started drooling, not all the time, but it was unusual for him, I'd literally have to wipe his face down. And he also seemed to lose some depth perception. I had to wash his face after he ate because he drove his face into his canned food, so it was all up over his nose. If I didn't wash it off he'd drink water and get the water all full of food residue. Once this drooling and messy-face-ness started he declined quite quickly. I had told the kids a few days prior to the 17th that I didn't think Pumba would be around much longer. I went to work Thursday, and he was fine, but I think something happened to him, another stroke maybe, because he didn't come looking for his food that night, highly unusual for him. So I went and got him and tried to feed him, but he wouldn't stand up. He barely ate, so I skipped his insulin shot. I half expected to find he passed through the night when I got up the next morning, but he didn't. He was laying in the kitchen on the floor in front of the fridge, and I left him there til I got the kids off to school. I knew the night before what I was going to end up having to do the next day. Once I took the kids to school I tried to get him to stand up, but he couldn't. So I called the vet, and they said to bring him up at 11:40, the last appointment, so there wasn't anyone around.

We cuddled, I bawled, we cuddled some more. At one point I had to put him in the hallway for a few minutes, and he peed on the floor and managed to drag himself somehow into my room to the spot he liked to lay. I put a blanket in the spot, and he laid there til it was time to go. Maggie gave him a sniff and lick before we went, but Jewel wouldn't come near him. They both pretty much avoided him like the plague all morning. When I took him into the room at the vet, he laid on the table, and he never lifted his head off the table at all. I really think had I not taken him the kids would have found him dead when they got home from school. He had small veins, the vet got about half of the needle in him, but that's all it took, he was gone in less than 20 seconds. I got a call last Tuesday that he was ready to come home.

Pumba on the left, Nala in the middle in an actual beach rock!, Simba on the right. Strict rules that they and any other cremated pets are to be buried with us once we're both gone.

And there are also a couple of pairs of socks. The first are plain old 60st vanilla socks with mismatched stripes as the skein had three knots in the first sock and messed up the striping. No knots in the second sock. The yarn is Herrschners Sock Yarn Stripes in twilight. Details here.

About Me

Married with 2 boys, two dogs, and a fish tank. I am basically a self-taught knitter of 30+ years (started when I was around 10 years old). My maternal grandmother gave me my first set of knitting needles (which I still have) and some pink and purple yarn.